Rigor Mortis
by Figure.10
Summary: Markie loves him. She'll do anything to get close to him. It's today she realizes just how far she'll go... -/Non-Slash/-


Markie watched him. His body moving in that slinky cat-like way only he had. The thick, sandy blonde hair that filled the air around his head like a balloon when his hood was pulled off. The thin white T-shirt that clung to his skin, holes on every seam.

She had offered to sew them up.

Anything for him. Anything for Kenny.

The wind blew parts of wavy brown hair in front of Markie's expressionless face. She looked down. He would be here tomarrow, she told herself. Time to get home.

Being in love with Kenny McCormick was as frustrating as it was pointless. Everyone knew Kenny could never settle on one girl. Hell, he couldn't even settle on one_ guy_. Watching his lips spread into that debinare smirk at the sight of her prettier classmates was the least of Markie's daily indignities.

She watched her breath turn white in the chill air, quickly stolen by the wind. It was January now, snow falling almost nightly. Dreary slush piled up on the driveway. This month was like any other. No progress. No end.

The door creeked open on the brightly lit living room. Markie dropped her backpack and smiled sweetly for her mom before practicly sprinting upstairs.

She didn't normally cry about it.

It was so predictable now, the way he gave her a half-smile in return for her cheery "hello". The seemingly endly wave of love intrests. She hated Kenny. Hated everything about him. Hated loving him. But there was nothing else to try.

Nothing that wasn't entirely fucked up.

Today felt right.

Markie trembled from what everyone assumed was the cold. The extra weight in her backpack stopped any hope she might of had of forgetting her plan. It almost scared her more to think that no one would ever find out. The safety was on. The shed was abandonned. Nothing could go wrong.

The hours fell away like dominos, Markie's breath growing seemingly faster for every minute. Kenny sat there in sixth period, scribbling unledgibly on a peice of notebook paper.

"It's not like he doesn't die all the time..", She thought to herself, "There's no way he'll know what happened."

The bell rang and Markie's heart skipped a beat. She had to act fast. She needed this. She needed this horrible thing; horribly. She knew what Kenny did when the bell rang. Markie had watched and knew, almost without thought, the path he took winding trough the crowd of students. Her four feet eleven inches were easily hidden by the boistrus crowd. Markie's heart pounded in her chest. With every bump of her backpack agaisnt a stranger's body, she was sure they would feel the gun and call her out.

But Markie seemed effectivly invisible.

She followed the mop of messy blonde hair as Kenny made his way toward Stan; standing near the gate and playing with his phone. The crowd thined as the hallway opened up to the outside lawn, and Markie found her cover dissipating. She dashed behind a brick pillar on one side of the metal gate, silently thankful of the recent remodeling of the campus.

"So what's the plan?"

Even after extensive mental preparation, Kenny's voice still sent shivers down Markie's spine.

"She can't come, has to study for her history final."

Kenny rolled his eyes at the studiousness of Stan's girlfriend and clapped the boy on the shoulder.

"Well It'll just be me and you, eh?"

Stan winced slightly, his body not quite recovered from the last 'just you and me' he had with Kenny.

Markie's brow furrowed, this sounded like something special was happening today; something she hadn't planned for. To her relief, after a bit more small talk the boys took their usual route, the trees lining the street providing perfect cover for a centain brunnette.

"Any word on when Kyle'll be back?", said Kenny, chewing absent-mindedly on a hangnail.

"Should be next week", Stan responded, kicking a rock towards Scott Malkinson's driveway, "I still can't believe he got to go all the way to Sweden."

"Well that's what happens when you're a smart freak like Kyle...he'd better bring me back some meatballs."

The conversation became background noise to Markie as the two boys neared the shed. This was it. Now or never.

"Hey Kenny!", He turned around and looked down to see his number one fan smiling up at him, "Bebe told me to tell you something."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah", replied Markie, her plan working almost too well, "she said it was sort of a secret."

Kenny and Stan exchanged a silent promise to meet up later and the blonde boy followed Markie to the edge of the sidewalk. The shed was only a few feet away.

"Come over here", Markie motioned, glancing back over her shoulder at the path Kenny and Stan had taken, even knowing full well no one would be walking home this way.

He stepped into the shed with a concerned and slightly bewildered look on his face. Markie moved with one fluid motion, reaching into her backpack, pulling out the gun and holding it to Kenny's forehead.

"What the-"

his pupils dialated, reflecting a glint of metal across grey-blue irises. Markie's heartbeat sped as she met the scared eyes of her captive, but her jaw set; fingers curled tightly around the weapon in her hand.

"No!"

"No is the wrong answer."

She pulled the safety and fired.

It seemed to happen in slow motion. Each drop of blood spattering the white walls of the shed. Every fold of Kenny's body as he collapsed face-first to the floor. Markie's eyes glassed over. She...she..finally had him.

Markie dropped to her knees beside his body. She touched his shoulder as if were made of glass; then gently rolled him over.

His light caramel skin was still warm.

Blood was still flowing out of the back of his head, clotting darkly in his sandy blonde hair.

"K-kenny?"

Markie leaned forward over him and put her hand on his cheek. She closed his eyelids with a shaking hand, and with a shuttering breath said, "I love you."


End file.
